


remember this feeling

by meltingthroughthesky



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Modern Royalty, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Prince Phil Lester, Slow Burn, Work In Progress, Writer Dan Howell, basically a rom com, but who knows how it may turn out lmao, mostly just silly it isn't that deep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meltingthroughthesky/pseuds/meltingthroughthesky
Summary: "And now Dan found himself in the limelight. Of course he knew his moment would be over in a few months, but he had always been told to milk it for as much as it could be worth."When Daniel Howell receives an invitation to discuss his bestselling novel with the actual Prince of England, he's understandably nervous. But with pressure from his publicist, he attends the event, and soon enough, he and Prince Philip spark an unlikely friendship. The Prince's adorable corgi probably didn't hurt either.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	remember this feeling

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiii this is my first published fanfic ever. i really tend to stay away from rpf but i was bored and thought fuck it, so now you have this! 
> 
> it's completely unbetaed and practically unedited. it is also very much a work in progress, but i will try to make regular updates, hopefully once a week. the tags may be subject to change but the rating won't be, dw. 
> 
> andddd that's it for now! i hope you enjoy the first chapter :D

Dan had always had some rather grandiose expectations of what fame would look like. Not that he was calling himself famous, per se. But in the past week, he had certainly gained some level of infamy at the very least. He could give himself that.

It was strange, he thought, as he lay on the floor with a pizza box and his trusty nintendo switch, that  _ this  _ was the romanticized life of a bestselling novelist.

_ Bestselling novelist.  _

He couldn’t help but snort at that, all alone in his bland apartment. He could at least buy some plaid trousers, really compliment the academic aesthetic. Brew some tea instead of sipping his eighth glass of Ribena. But no, that wouldn’t be authentic enough, and as someone who had built his entire brand around relatability, this was good enough for the people and it was good enough for him. 

As his thoughts trailed along those lines, he took out his phone and snapped a photo of the desolate pizza box, one single slice left to drip grease that pooled in the middle of the cardboard. 

_ serious author business,  _ he captioned the tweet, then flipped over to Instagram to post the same thing there. 

When that was done, when he’d sent a few replies and given the fans (as much as he hated that word, he couldn’t think of anything else to call them; this was all so incredibly new to him) enough interaction to keep himself, as his publicist would say, “accessible,” he lay his phone down and groaned like a beached whale. 

Slowly, he felt his eyes drift shut. He knew he’d wake up with a sore back but he was too exhausted to walk to the other side of the flat. Just for a moment, he told himself, but as he felt himself slipping, his phone started to buzz, still resting on his chest where he had left it. Blinking his eyes open, he groaned and swiped up to answer the call. 

“Daniel.” The stern voice of his manager rang down the phone. 

“Hey Fin,” he replied weakly. 

They let out a noise that could have been a laugh, could have been a groan, Dan was too tired to tell. 

“Look, I don’t really want to be calling right now either, I’m supposed to be on vacation, but  _ someone _ wanted me to tell you to get in touch with her.”

“Fin, I-” He started to protest weakly, but Fin shushed him.

“Dan, I know what you’re going to say. I know you don’t like her any better than I do but she’s supposed to be helping you. It’s her job, you know that.”

He sighed. Fin was one of his oldest friends, of course they knew what was going through his head almost twice as well as he did. 

“Right.” Awkwardly he clambered to his feet so he could lay more comfortably on the sofa. His back protested in pain. “I’ll just give her a call then, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Fin almost whispered down the line. “If all these speaking engagements make you uncomfortable why don’t you just tell her that?”

It was more complicated then that, it always was, but Dan didn’t say that. “No, really, it’s fine, they don’t. I was a theatre kid, you think I give a fuck about late night talk shows?”

“Well it certainly seems like-”

“Bye Fin!” Dan cut them off, putting on his fake cheery voice he learned how to use when he worked in Asda during his gap year. “It’s your honeymoon, go enjoy the Bahamas, tell Claudia I said hi.”

“Okay, um, we’re in Switzerland but have a nice-”

Dan hung up before they could finish. He groaned and leaned all the way back into the sofa cushions, folding into them like a blanket of warmth. He hadn’t noticed it before, but the pizza had left him dehydrated and there was a pounding ache in his skull.

But, dutiful to Fin, he swiped through his contacts until he reached his publicist’s name. With a weight on his chest, anxiety bubbling up and almost spilling out of him, he pressed call. 

* * *

Dan had always been the disappointment. The one left out. The failure. And over time, this made him feel like he had to constantly justify his existence, apologize for simply taking up space. 

He had gone to Manchester to study law, dropped out before the second year. By the time he had enough money saved to move to London, he had already written his first manuscript. He sold it to a publisher for a measly sum and it was published the next year. He thought maybe that would be enough. Becoming a published author before your 22nd birthday was in his eyes, an accomplishment.

But it wasn’t enough. It never was.

Like most debut novels, Dan’s book flopped. And even though he was a naturally pessimistic person, even though he had been expecting this, it still hurt. He had given that book everything he had. Every scrap of pain and joy in his life so far. And he had been proud of it.

But he couldn’t live on the money from one novel alone. He got a job working at a nearby coffee shop. And within the next three years, he had a new novel. 

His publishers were reluctant to give him a try. He ended so many nights on the floor, sobbing in pain and desperation. When he thought back to that time, all he remembered was darkness. And he remembered subscribing to the idea that to make art you needed pain. He thought he could take his demons and show them off to the world, that suffering made art worthwhile. But one night, he had gone over to Fin and their girlfriend Claudia’s house for dinner, sat down at the table, and promptly burst into tears. 

The very next week, he made his first therapy appointment.

It took another three years for that novel to be ready to be published. He had written it raw, scratched the pages until they were worn and had no more life to give. He was more confident in himself at that point. Where his first book had been metaphors hidden behind his signature sarcastic style, his second practically became the Gay Manifesto. 

He never thought that certain story in particular would resonate with so many people. He had never dared to dream that maybe he wasn’t alone. 

At first, the publishers hadn’t liked that particular manuscript. It took Fin, walking into the office with Dan at their side, advocating for the book from the business side of things, to convince them to publish it. All Dan could remember from that night, after they left the publishing house, was drunken haziness and Fin at his side proclaiming the wonders of lesbian-gay solidarity. Claudia had ended up smashing a hole through the wall. It was one of Dan’s favorite moments in his entire life. 

And then it had happened. That book had been the one to soar to the top of the charts. Fin always joked that maybe his books had ended up in the self-help section, alongside parenting books and televangelist cash grabs, because of their overly kitschy titles. 

(Dan, however ironic of a person he claimed to be, was rather fond of the titles. “Have the Courage to Exist” and “You Will Get Through This Night” were perfectly acceptable names for his odd blend of autobiography and fiction.)

And now Dan found himself in the limelight. Of course he knew his moment would be over in a few months, but Katie always told him to milk it for as much as it could be worth.

* * *

_ Katie.  _ Dan stared at the name of his publicist on his phone as it rung once, twice, before a cheery woman with a posh accent, worn down by the many years she had spent in New York, picked up.

“Daniel!” she practically gushed.

“Hello,” he responded politely. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible, he thought. “Fin told me you needed something?”

“Yes, there’s some… news that may be of interest to you.”

“Is it the podcast thing again? I told you I’d do it, I just wish I didn’t have to go into the studio because then that throws me all off and I’d much rather do it from-”

She interrupted him with a small cough. “No, it’s much better than that. Do I have your full attention?”

Dan shuffled his feet up onto his coffee table, knocking over a stack of magazines in the process.

“Are you-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He waved his hand in the air despite knowing she couldn’t see him. “Continue, please?”

“Right, so, I know this is short notice, but there’s an exciting opportunity that has just arisen, and Daniel, I know you like to pass these things up, but please, just this once, accept this. It’s so good for your career and plus it pays well and-”

“Katie,” Dan interrupted softly. “What is it?”

“Right. So. I have here an email from… well it says it’s from but I really doubt  _ he  _ actually wrote it himself-”

“He?”

“Daniel! Listen!” She clicked her tongue impatiently.

He wanted to snap back that he  _ was  _ waiting, but instead he sat in disgruntled silence. 

“This is an invitation for you, Daniel James Howell, to join Prince Philip at Buckingham Palace, this Thursday afternoon.”

All the roaring of impatience disappeared from Dan’s mind, replaced with silence ringing through his ears. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so so so much for reading, it means so much to me <3
> 
> feel free to leave kudos if you enjoyed it! comments are also much appreciated, i'd love some feedback or if you just want to say hi simply drop a comment. 
> 
> i don't know when the next chapter will be published, hopefully soon. it may be tomorrow or it may be a week, i don't know. that should set the pace of my upload schedule. i have the plot planned out but this is definitely a wip. 
> 
> anywayyyyssss i hope you're having a great day! writing is one of my passions and i love sharing my work. (that sounded cheesy, whatever, lmao). 
> 
> <3333


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